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BERT FINCK 




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1902 






PRESS OF JOHN T. MORTON AND COMPANY 
LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY 






THF I !=iKArtV OF 
OONGH€SS, 

ore, 'i'd 1902 

CLASB c^XXa No, 
COfY R. 



Copyright, 1902, 
By BERT FINCK 



PROLOGUE. 



ART sat on her throne of white clouds, in the Court of 
Triumphant Aspiration, surrounded by gUttering 
princes who once were her subjects on earth. 

Three muses suddenly entered the assembly, and knelt 
at the goddess's feet. "A prize!" cried one sweet voice 
after the other, "for my charge, your truest worshiper 
below ! " 

Art quietly silenced the lyrical noise, and spoke to the 
first kneeling form: " Let me see why it is that he whom 
you attend deserves so great a reward." She raised her 
wand and diminished space, and the Earth stood close before 
her. 

«' See, see!" exclaimed the muse, in glee, "that town 
burns with his praise I His name is painted on the walls in 
streaks of blazing gold! Behold the crowds, and hear the 
shouts! His work is passing by. And lo! there at the 
window he stands in all his pride!" 

Art did not reply for a moment to the rhapsodies of the 
first muse. Her eyes were disdainfully scanning the artist's 
vainglorious face. Her eyes became still more disdainful, 
as he lifted his hand to his lips and murmured in self- 
adoration : 

"How much I have done for you, O Art!" 

Then she laughed, amidst the derision of the entire 
court, " To boast of what he has done for me? " And the 
crestfallen muse quit the attendance. 

" O how different is mine!" the second muse proudly 
began ; « ' notice how he sits alone in his rags and misery ! 
Ghosts of hunger and neglect lie against his icy chest; still 
his trembling fingers clutch his brush and unsold pictures," 



Prologue 

But a frown was gathering upon the brow of Art, while 
this muse was so eagerly speaking. The frown became so 
very deep that darkness fell upon the court when the artist 
shook his brush, and sighed with the air of a martyr: 

«« How I have suffered for you, O Art!" 

Then she scornfully inquired, "To serve me, and com- 
plain?" And the princes of the court drew their swords. 

The third muse did not speak at all, but gently pointed 
to a little room, where an artist was pensively kneeling. 
Flowers and stones lay scattered about; cold draughts of 
adversity poured in through a crack; warm zephyrs of 
dreamland drifted in through another, and they both paid 
court to his heart. But one hand of the artist picked up a 
stone, and the other one clasped a flower. He pressed them 
both against his breast, and smiled at the zephyrs and 
then at the draughts. 

" I thank you, O Art," he tenderly said, "help me to 
be worthy of these!" A brilliant glow spread through the 
court, and the air sang with the applause of the princes, as 
Art descended from her throne and clasped the third muse 
by the hand. 

"You have only to name the prize," she said, "for 
your charge, my truest worshiper below." 



SOLDERO. 

A heart's tragedy. 



CHARACTERS. 

KoRONiE, The Queen. Elouard, A poet. 

SoLDERO, Her favorite. Floriana, His love. 

Ildeana, a Lady of the Court. The Queen's attendants. 

Scene: A road along the foot of a hill. The Castle 
of SoLDERO in the distance. Enter, on the 
hill above the road, Soldero. 

SoLDERo. The battle's won; could it be called a battle ! 
The truth in me has triumphed by the aid of certainty. 
Let the queen rage and strike me with her power; she can- 
not hurt me as my Floriana could; with all her court and 
armies, not as Floriana could! When that chaste maid 
disdained me, as I fearfully thought she did, I was crushed, 
and I was banished, even while honored as never before; 
the queen's gifts seemed then hag's gifts, and the crown an 
idle weight. 

I just begin to live — I know myself; I know I love, and 
that my love's returned. I have been living in a tomb; 'tis 
true, a glittering, gorgeous tomb, but still a tomb — a tomb. 
A morbid restlessness came over me while there; I craved a 
high-niched jewel in this brilliant cell of death. To reach 
it I had but to faintly knock at the guarded heart of the 
mistress of the cell, where a ladder would be handed me on 
which to climb — jewel, cell, and mistress then to be all mine. 
But while I started several times to softly rap — the door 
already unbarring as I drew near — I beheld without, through 
a slight crevice in my prison wall, an angel's face of liberty 
and love; and then I could not rap. I turned and watched 
the crevice and the face which came and went again, yet 

5 



S o 1 d e r o 

never smiled at me. The battle then began: to grasp the 
jewel, leave the passing angel with the face that dazzled my 
rich gloom — forget the image of seraphic life which floated 
by without a look at me, or else break from the tomb and 
follow it, unmindful whether it would smile at me or no, 
only to breathe its divine atmosphere. 

In the height of this struggle that waged in my breast, 
the question which stirred it was decided for me; the angel 
re- appeared and called to me. So away from the homage 
of court, gaudy rubbage! Away from ambition, the unrest 
of ghosts! The queen's love is fever; the throne, solitude; 
loud cheers for the sovereign mean beggars are near. The 
tinseled rags of royalty, the bended knee of envy and of 
spite, the herds of echoing slaves, the carefully carved 
words, tempt me no more; for in the guiding starlight of 
pure love, that leads me up to spheres of clearest sight, I 
see they are but fetters, though studded with gems. I will 
surely meet her here; she often walks this way to pick wild 
flowers; and so does Elouard, my only friend — but what a 
friend! The noblest soul among all men is he, the poet 
Elouard. I have been blessed in friendship as in love. 
Could I but see him now and tell him of my happiness, how 
he would laugh at first, and say, "What! the old stony 
heart that cared for only power, touched by love! Just like 
a good-for-nothing poet, after all!" But he would quickly 
change his tone of honest raillery and offer me his tenderest 
congratulations, and feel as glad as though it were himself 
favored by the gods of supreme joy. He will leave the 
country with me; a poet's home is his affections; he can be 
happy anywhere when in the midst of sympathy. 

I laugh at Koronie's fury and at her mouldy passions; let 
her proclaim me traitor and issue bitter writs of banishment. 
With love and friendship at my side I can create a kingdom 
of my own; a kingdom? more than that — a world, a universe 
of my own. {^He descends the path leading down to the road. ) 

6 



S o 1 d e r o 

Enter Floriana, gathering fiowers along the way and 
thrusting them into her hair. 

Floriana {singing'). 

There's hope in the heavens; 
There's peace in the air; 
There's love in the flowers; 
And God everywhere! 

O, Hfe's sweet as music 
When hearts simply dare 
To trust in the angels 
And throw away care ! 

SoLDERO {aside). The battle is decided, without doubt; 
victory comes herself to deck my brow with laurel leaves. 
This is the richest moment of my life. I ask for nothing, 
Heaven, but to be a little worthy of this sublime gift, and 
that I may be able to make her happy — happy as she makes 
me. That voice — each tone is worth more than all the clink- 
ing sounds of majesty, or of triumphant swords. How well 
those flowers become her! I have seen women — not a few 
of them — the flowers in whose hair seemed to shrink into 
themselves, as though ashamed of nestling there; but hers 
look honored by their contact, and sparkle with the radiance 
of her chastity; the very hills reflect the soft light of her 
soul. Her presence casts a spell of holy witchery over all; 
I almost fear to speak, lest the charmed scene be disturbed; 
it seems too weirdly beautiful to be real. 

Floriana {seating herself on a rock and musing aloud). 
And I will throw away care, for care is wicked. God, who 
gave this precious love, will help us to protect it; all will be 
well, one day. Only my heart shrinks from concealment; 
it seems not right that love should be concealed; why not 
loudly proclaim it to all the world — a sacred bliss to gladden 
even nature and to draw down the spirits of the sky to witness 

7 



S o 1 d e r o 

it? Still, Elouard says the queen has many moods, and 
very often strange ones; moods when she frowns on lovers 
and tears them from each other. He thinks it wise to wait for 
a kind hour, when she is generous — which means, when she 
is happy, the poor queen! — for then she grants every request; 
delights in giving others pleasure. 

He says such a mood, he knows, is very near at hand, 
and then he will tell her of our love and beg her favor on 
our speedy marriage. Until that time we must be patient — 
hide our sweet love, lest it prove fatal. 

It hurts me most of all to think that our secret must be 
kept from Soldero; it seems almost like treason to do so, 
for Soldero is Elouard's faithful friend, who would help us 
with his sympathy, advice, strength, even life. 

But that is why he should never know, Elouard explains; 
for Soldero has almost reached his goal; and shall his friend, 
to whom he has been so true, turn barrier to his triumph 
that is so near? 

The queen no longer can delay her marriage; the 
delegates of the people again urge her to take a spouse, to 
reign joint sovereign with her. She, fearing to offend her 
subjects further, swears at a month's end she will give them 
a king. And this king will be Soldero, of course, unless he 
loses her favor. 

Such loss to him might possibly occur were our love 
offensive to the queen, and he connected with it. I know 
that all of this is very true; that Soldero's ambition is his 
soul — ambition, and friendship for Elouard, but for none 
else, and that this friendship must not be his doom. 

Yet, O, I could not help it. Elouard will grieve, I'm 
sure. I could not help but tell him, as I did, a day ago, 
when I met him by the chapel, no one near. He looked so 
very open in his joy when I came up to him ; almost like 
Elouard in boyish recklessness; there's something of the poet 
in him, too, only the poet is stifled by the musty air of court. 

8 



S o I d e r o 

But I could get no further than with ' ' Soldero, I love — " 
when I heard a stealthy footstep, and the rustle of a gown, 
and Lady Ildeana crept by, she whom Elouard calls "The 
Serpent of the Court." 

For Soldero disdained her, I believe; how could he love 
a wicked heart like hers? And she knows nothing of the 
word " forgive "; breathes but to thwart our Soldero's hopes 
and plans. I acted very foolishly again; I always do; but 
Elouard says he loves me best for that. I thought only of 
danger being near — danger for Soldero, and ran away. I 
am glad I did not finish with my words, and yet, perhaps I 
have done more mischief still by vanishing so guiltily. 

Well, I am not a lady of the court and can not wear a 
secret gracefully. Poor Soldero! I hope he will win his 
crown, if a crown can give him pleasure; it would give 
misery to me, and to Elouard too. We could not wander, 
with crowns upon our heads, over hills and fields like 
thoughtless vagabonds, unmindful where we go; for crowns 
check freedom. Poor Soldero ! I hope that I have done 
no harm; I am so imprudent! Talking here aloud! Ildeana 
may have been listening all this time, and may be now upon 
her snaky way to the queen to ruin him. I wish that 
Elouard were here, so I could tell him of my folly. He 
could warn Soldero in time to save himself. It seems so 
strange that love, which God gives us, should be concealed. 
{Rising and walking slowly down the road ufilil she is oul of 
sight.) 

Soldero {descending the path). O fool! fool! fool! 
fool ! fool ! to dream of playing poet and be loved ! You that 
were born for tragedy alone — the tragedy of ambition and 
ascent ! As though you could escape it, fool ! fool ! fool ! 
Why, Elouard never dreamed so wild a dream as you! 
Elouard, with all his poetic fancies, no such dream as you ! 
To dream of being happy and beloved ! That is all for 
Elouard — freedom, love, peace, hope I You have the crown 

9 



S o 1 d e r o 

in place of them — the crown, ha, ha, ha, ha! But crown 
of what? For Elouard owns the world, and even if he would 
he could not give you part of it to rule, except the marshy 
lands of pity — woman's pity. Your title to be thus, perhaps, 
" Soldero, King of Woman's Pitying Tears." O no, no, 
no! The one she aptly gave you is much better, "Poor 
Soldero!" Poor Joke-of-Dreams ! Poor poet of a mocking 
hour! Poor dupe of impish voices! Or, in good, plain, and 
honest words, poor fool, poor fool ! fool ! fool ! 

{Enter Elouard, riding hurfiedly.) 

Ah, here he comes, this mighty sovereign ! But why in 
such a hurry? His kingdom's surely safe. He's in almost 
such a hurry as poor Soldero once was, when he thought to 
claim a world and found it gone. 

Elouard {excitedly). It is well that I have found you; 
there is little time to lose. Up, up on my horse and away ! 
{dismounting) for the queen's in a wild humor with your 
absence of three days. Your foes have not been idle. 
Ildeana has worked her tongue about meeting you with a 
woman, near the chapel, murmuring love, and they come, 
the queen and your enemies, this way ! Soldero, I know 
you can defeat them in a moment, if you will, but you need 
some preparation, and you do not look so calm as you should 
be at such a time; do not let them see you now. Quick! 
quick, they will soon be here! 

Soldero {bowing profoundly). I am your loyal and 
obedient servant, but will your majesty pardon my bold 
tongue if it suggests the honor is too weighty — that of riding 
my imperial sovereign's horse? 

Elouard. There is no time for mockery or jokes! I 
know there is no stouter breast, no shrewder mind, or quicker 
tongue than yours in all the world; but, Soldero, I would 
not have them triumph for a moment over you. Why, it 
would add even more than fifty years to Ildeana's hissing 



S o I d e r o 

life to see you humbled in the eyes of the court; to see you 
frowned upon by her who, but a day or two ago, almost 
declared you spouse and sovereign. For honor's sake, 
throw aside your pride, my friend, and keep away from them, 
if only for an hour! 

SoLDERO. Your majesty would banish me? How has 
poor Soldero offended you? Where must he go? To what far 
hemisphere, to rest outside of Elouard's boundless empire? 

Elouard. But this is madness, Soldero! {Aside,) 
Upon my soul, I fear he has gone mad ! Ambition can upset 
the strongest intellect. {Aloud.) Soldero, can you not 
understand? 'Tis Elouard, your friend, who urges you to 
save yourself from a humiliation sharper than wounds of all 
the swords in Christendom. 

Soldero. Then I am to be banished for my madness? 
But that should have been done some time ago, for I am as 
sane now, saner. King, than ever, and recognize my poverty 
and your might. 

Elouard. Mighty in happiness, Soldero, of your friend- 
ship; and for that friendship's sake, listen to me: do not 
disdain the counsel of your wisdom — leave foolish pride to 
weaklings — flee from here! 

Soldero. Mighty in claiming love of a pure woman, 
King Elouard, would you leave this kingdom out? 

Elouard. Soldero, forgive. I understand your mean- 
ing, my secret is discovered by my friend from whom, for 
his sake, not for mine, I hid it lest it bring ruin on his almost 
sceptered reach. 

Soldero. As though I did not always know your secret ! 
But you have done wrong. I could have blessed your joy 
when I was still a toy of royal fancy. How could I stand 
poorer than I do now? 

Elouard. You still have liberty and no humiliation. A 
man is rich as long as he has those; and if you are not mad 



S o 1 d e r o 

you will not lose them, but leave, whatever voice of stub- 
bornness may say. 

SoLDERO {suddenly). And leave all my possessions to 
my friends and foes ? My power to these, my hopes to 
those? Well, I do not begrudge my friends their spoils, 
but I'll die sword in hand, resisting a pillage by my enemies. 

( The queen and her party are heard approaching.) 

Elouard. It is too late for you to avoid them now. 
I pray your tongue may yet outwit their malice! But since 
you will unprepared give battle, let them fight two instead 
of one. 

{Enter Floriana quickly.) 

Floriana. Let them fight thee ! Elouard, forgive ! I 
am the cause of all this trouble ; I was telling Lord Soldero 
of our love when I heard Ildeana and fled. 

Elouard. So you were the girl that he met by the 
chapel? The girl who disappeared when the serpent 
appeared? My poor Floriana, our secret is now out; we 
must give it to the queen and save Soldero. You are wiser by 
far than I, sweetheart philosopher! It was wrong to conceal 
our love from our good friend, who knew of it always — did 
you not, Soldero? Had we opened our hearts to him much 
might have been spared. 

Soldero. Yes, he knew of it always! Yes, much 
might have been spared ! {Aside. ) The battle is ended 
forever, forever! Dreams against reality; reality wins! 
The dream forces are routed, are scattered and slain, and 
Soidero's fate is decided. {Aloud.) My friends, I will be 
frank with you ; I have had a touch of madness which comes to 
all at times, but I have learned to master it, and I am sane 
again, saner than I have ever been, and thus more powerful. 
Stand close to me, you happy pair of lovers, and you will 
shortly see that you have lost nothing by your loyalty, in 
spite of all my madness and my foes. 

13 



Solder 



Enter queeti and party ^ in riding costujnes. The queen 
looks disdainfully befo7'e her, and Ildeana, Just behind her, 
smiles triumphantly at Soldero. 

So'LD'ERO {spriftgi7tg forward). Treason! treason! trea- 
son! You are beset by traitors, royal madam! Infamous 
plots are hatching in your midst against the sacred welfare 
of your scepter ! Forbear to move until these plots are 
shattered. {He thrusts his sword betweefi the queen and 
Ildeana.) Back! back, you nest of mischief -brewing ser- 
pents ! You have hissed too soon ; staffs are at hand to 
crush you ! 

KoRONiE {coldly). That treason is near us we are well 
aware, but we did not deem it would loudly proclaim itself, 
or dare to oppose our passage ! 

Soldero. And it has not boldly proclaimed itself, nor 
has it stopped your perilous passage. It sits with flatter- 
ing smile and docile mien about you, madam, and smooths 
your way to peril and disaster. No ! courteous treason will 
not stay your passage; that is the part of rude fidelity! 

KoRONiE. We see no loyalty that stops us now, but 
faithlessness which gives us inconvenience. 

Soldero. If this be faithlessness, then let fidelity die, 
since it no longer has a home to nestle in. But before it 
dies it must offend again, by thrusting unctuous craftiness 
away from you. Retire, and air your closeted bitter tongues; 
{to the queen's attendants) the queen would be alone to hear 
of dangers that menace her throne. 

{He leads the queen away.) 

Koronie. This is a jest to make even stoics laugh ! 
That Soldero should warn the throne of danger! Its safety 
is so dear to him that he plays, far away, with moods that 
do not foster the good morals of the land. 

13 



S o I d e r o 

SoLDERO. Deception always curls itself near us, ready 
at any moment to spring; sincerity stands at a distance, on 
a hilltop, guarding our interest with clearer view. And if 
bright dreams corrupt a nation's morals, the moods that are 
my comrades are most impure indeed. 

Ildeana {^advancing). Your majesty will pardon my seem- 
ingly forward tongue, but this may be a clever scheme to 
lure you from protection. 

KoRONiE {aside). Could I but think he cared to carry 
me away! {Aloud.) Your tongue's as strange as it is bold, 
my lady Ildeana. Koronie to know fear! You are at liberty 
to seek dangers a little while among these hills and let us 
hear of dreams that take the shape of women. (Ildeana 
retires. ) 

SoLDERO. Of woman, yes; dreams ever of one woman, 
but it is not of that dream I now can speak, but of a boon 
which I pray you grant me, madam, before I meet the 
punishment dealt by my loss of favor. 

Koronie. There was a Soldero once who only had to 
breathe a wish and that wish would be granted, for this was 
due his services unto a grateful queen. But he, it seems, 
has lately passed away, and one who bears his name is but 
a mockery of him. Still, for the sake of that old once-loved 
name, he that ungracefully bears it need not utter his request 
in vain. 

Soldero. It is to make not me, but others, happy. I 
have a friend, rich with the gold of a true poet's soul, who 
loves a gentle girl. But he is as tenderly considerate as he 
is great in song, and fearing to disturb the soft air of my 
dream — my haunting dream, lit by a woman's face — he 
checked his natural impulse to share with me his bliss, which 
needed the smile of his sovereign before it could be called 
complete. Not so with her, the dove-like maiden of his 
heart; it seemed dishonest to her saintly reasoning to hide 
the rarest and most envied gift that heaven bestows on 

14 



S o 1 d e r o 

mortals. And thus, one evening, as I whispered to a vision, 
this girl passed by the chapel door and gently cried ' ' Soldero, 
I love,'' but before she had spoken the name of her lover 
she was frightened by — a snake. For love, my queen, is 
as timid as it is daring, at times, and from the creeping 
presence of malice, why, even an angel would fly. 

KoRONiE. This girl — where is this girl? 

Soldero. Your interest gives me hope for the peace of 
my friends. I see they still are here, Elouard and Floriana. 
I was chiding them when you appeared, for their not having 
confided in me when it was in my power to intercede for 
them. I trust it is not yet too late, and that your generous 
majesty will not darken the dawn of their paradise because 
of their friendship for me. 

KoRONiE {advancing quickly to Elouard and Floriana). 
Girl, where was it that you spoke to the Lord Soldero of 
your love ? 

Floriana. Of my love for Elouard? — by the chapel. I 
am so thoughtless, pardon me, your majesty. I meant no 
wrong to any one at all. 

Koronie. Your only wrong, my dear, lay in not coming 
to your queen and sharing with her the secret of your love. 
What, is she then so terrible that lambs like you must shrink 
from her? Here, Elouard, you can sing no poem such as 
this. {Placing 'Ei^ovARn's hand in Y'loriaha's.) Take care 
of her, for I am her protector still, even after you may call 
her wife, which must be very soon. ( The lovers are about 
to sink oji their kjiees before her^ but she, arresting them, 
kisses Floriana with '-'-God bless you both, and make you 
happy forever! '' She theti returns to Soldero, who stands 
in a ?nusing attitude.) 

Koronie. Your boon is granted — could it be called a 
boon — it was a gift to me, this precious opportunity. 

Soldero. I thank you, madam ; from my heart, I thank 
you. I, who no longer can be happy, since my one dream 

15 



S o 1 d e r o 

is broken — broken — may find some hours of gentle reverie in 
the knowledge of the happiness of my friends. Now, of 
these dangers that harass your throne, if you will hear them 
from an accused traitor's lips. 

KoRONiE. First tell me of this dream, this one, one 
woman-dream which now, you say, is broken and leaves for 
you no happiness more. 

SoLDERo. My only treason — if it be treason — lies in 
my dreams. 

KoRONiE. We can forgive a dreamer much, for we have 
also dreamed. {Aside.) 'Tis not his dreams, but his lack 
of dreams, that I have lately dreaded. 

SoLDERO. {Pointing toward the queen's attendants^ a 
little way off, who are watching his interview with Koronie 
with ill- cone eal ed a7ixiety.') 

But they are traitors, not in dreams but in actions ; 
they, knowing of the dream that tortured me — the dream 
that drove me from my sovereign's presence lest it take fire 
and burn me in her sight — basely maligned it; used it for 
their venom ; sought to deprive the throne of its most 
steadfast guard. Nay, more than this; they aimed at 
murder, for it means death unto this guard to see his dream- 
face frown on him. 

Koronie {eagerly). This dream-face then is whose? 

SoLDERO. Here is the treason of my soul; forgive it. 
Heaven, if thou canst! The face which tantalized my 
brain — which gave me day, which gave me night, which 
sent me from you, drew me back — this face, O Queen, is 
yours ! And here is still greater treason of my soul ; for- 
give it, Heaven! Forgive it, Queen! That face in vision 
smiled into mine, not as a sovereign on a devoted subject, 
but even as Floriana's illumines Elouard's. And now that 
dream has faded, faded ! How dreams do strengthen and 
inflate our breasts with health, with hope and daring courage ! 

i6 



S o I d e f o 

But when they are gone all the earth seems barren and our 
vitality vanished. I have confessed my treason to my queen, 
and whatever chastisement she chooses to inflict on me can 
not be greater than the one which I have already received — 
my dream-world ravished from me. 

Ildeana (^advancing rapidly^. Your majesty, loud rumors 
are afloat of insurrections led by a lord high-seated in the 
court. 

SoLDERO {aside). The snake's last hiss ! Would I could 
wish that it had taken effect. 

KoRONiE. We were just about to call you to inform 
you of the news. The treason has been discovered and the 
traitor has confessed. Here, Elouard, leave your bride a 
moment ; call my attendants to me, so they may hear the 
sentence passed by their queen on treachery. 

SoLDERO {aside). To play a part into which you put 
your heart is great indeed ; but to triumph in a part with- 
out a heart to put into it is surely greater still ! 

KoRONiE {to her attendants who eagerly reply to her 
summons). Behold this wretch, who dared to love his queen ! 
For such high treason she will punish him by depriving him 
of liberty forever; she herself to be his jailer. And as an 
added punishment for his crime she will press his head 
down with the heaviness of a crown. Salute your king ! 
My lady Ildeana, you have been so actively engaged in scent- 
ing out this treason that you surely must be weary and, for 
your health's sake, we bid you to return unto your father's 
castle and tell him that the queen commands him to take his 
daughter traveling. And you, my lord of Baldico, who 
were strenuously employed in this same business, you had 
better travel, also, for your health's sake. I will bestow a 
great favor upon you, my lord of Firman ; you were so 
greatly troubled about Lord Soldero's conspiracies that it 
must be a pleasure to you to trumpet the traitor's doom. 
Inform the people of the neighborhood that their queen 

17 



S o 1 d e f o 

grants their request even before the two weeks have been 
ended — that Soldero is their king. As for you, my lady 
Kashiru — and you — and you — 

( While she continues speaking in the same mocking vein to 
her alarmed attendants Elouard and Floriana approach 
Soldero.) 

Elouard. Your ambition then has triumphed, Soldero; 
you have won the crown. {^Clasping Soldero's hand.) 

Soldero. Yes, it has triumphed. {After a pause.) But 
what of that? The crown is nothing to me. ' Twas not 
the crown that worried me, that turned me mad and forced 
me to greet you strangely, Elouard, a while ago ; it was — 
the world will not believe it but you will, my friend, you 
will believe it — it was because I loved the queen for her 
own self and feared she did not understand, my love, but 
thought I aimed at sovereignty alone. I find I was mistaken, 
and my troublesome ghost has been laid. 

Elouard. How glad I am to hear this, Soldero! There 
is no shadow on my happiness now at all. Hear ! Hear ! 
He loves her, Floriana! {Kissing Yi^ORik'Uk.) 

Floriana. Forgive me, Soldero! How I misjudged you! 
And we will all be happy now, so happy! 

Soldero. Yes, we will all be happy now — so happy ! 

Elouard. After all, there is nothing that can take the 
place of love, is there, Soldero ? 

Soldero. No, there is nothing that can take the place 
of love, Elouard — Floriana. 

( The queen joins them ; her attendants have all disap- 
peared. ) 

Koronie. How gloriously the sun is setting! And hear 
that bird's rhapsodic song ! The very winds seem to be 
wooing, and the leaves are whispering affectionate words ! 
Come, love makes poets of us all. Let us stroll toward 

i8 



S o I d e r o 

King Soldero's castle, where we will sup and speak what is 
in our hearts. You are not coming, Soldero ? 

SoLDERO. I lost a jewel. I will follow you on Elouard's 
horse in just a moment. 

( The queen ^ with her arm about Flori ana's waist and 
Elouard at her side, ascends the hill. Soldero stoops as 
though looking for sotnething and when they are out of sight 
he kneels before the stone on which Floriana sat, soliloquizing. ) 

Here is where Soldero died! And they will bury him soon 
in a tomb of gold, with all the hollow pageantry of death. 

(^As he arises from his knees a nun passes by.) Sister, a 
life has just now passed away; pray for this departed soul. 

{He moves toward Elouard's horse, but stops on hearing 
jubilant shouts of "A King! — A King! Our Soldero is our 
King! Soldero and Koronie! Long live Soldero, our 
King!'') The dirge! 



19 



KIOWANA. 

A TRAGEDY IN THREE ACTS. 



CHARACTERS. 

KiowANA, Priestess of Hell. 

Gluko, Her Attendant. 

Yajeho, Her Dwarf. 

Sylvador, a Jealous Lover. 

^ . ., r \ 1 /Her attendants 

Spirits oi ■< and ' v , r ^ 

^ J „ ( berore Gluko. 

( Eldero, J 

Yajechin, a Baboon. 
Elementary Spirit Voices. 

Act I. 

A room of rotunda- like forni^ the walls of which are 
covered with heavy black velvet. A solitary light shows 
KiowANA, clad i7i a scarlet robe, with a pjirple flower in her 
yellow hair, sitting on a raised seat. At her feet squats the 
dwa?f Yajeho, grotesquely attired, twisting the tail of 
Yajechin, the baboon. 

Yajeho {mutteri?ig). An owl rode on a he-goat's back 
to visit the sisters of Satan. Oh, that is what a frog told 
me as he sat on a lily-pad, dreaming! 

Baboon. Umph-humph! Umph-humph! Umph-humph! 

KiowANA. Cease your chattering jargon! Let the 
baboon go! Call Gluko at once ! Begone! 

{Efiter Gluko, swinging a whip.) 
Gluko {st7iking the dwarf and baboon.) Yajeho and 
Yajechin, ape and baboon! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Brew the 
Devil's broth for the Devil's Hour! Kiowana is hungry for 
the feast! 



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(Yajeho and the baboon run from the rooin^ screaming.^ 

KiowANA. Gluko, you drunken clown, take care! My 
patience with your presumption must soon have an end; 
how dare you strike my beasts? Beware, beware of my 
tired mood! 

Gluko. Kiowana, enchantress of Gluko's thoughts, your 
shghtest frown shivers his heart! {^He kisses^ with mocking 
grace, her hand. ) 

Kiowana. Has Sylvador come? 

Gluko. Is a fool ever wanting when folly is near? 

Kiowana. Not while the sot Gluko lives! 

Gluko. Rail not against your work, Kiowana, you have 
besotted him. Yes, Sylvador is here — a greater fool than 
Gluko, since vengeance is his motive. 

Kiowana. Then bring this wonder in. 

Gluko. Kiowana, Empress of Black Art, hail! High- 
Priestess of the spells of Hell! Dispenser of the souls of 
men! Gluko brings you your master — pardon — your 
slave! {Aside.) She calls me a drunken clown, but I am 
neither too drunk nor too stupid to fathom the drift of her 
wiles. {Gluko saunters, carelessly laughing, into the hall.) 

Kiowana. Madman! You rush on to your doom! O, 
weary companions are folly and fraud! After to-night I am 
through with you all; a new life begins with new love! 
Sylvador! Sylvador, you have awakened me! Sylvador! 
Sylvador, crown of my destiny! Lo! from the depths of 
my infernal reverie I spring to your breast and ascend! 
Hear me, you serpentine creatures of chaos! Imps that 
controlled me before I was born! I have been faithful to 
my lonely mission — at the altar of magic I sacrificed fools. 
Now is the time to reward me, sweet demons! The favor I 
crave is not hard to bestow; yet why should I name it? 
You know all my feelings — you know that I love him, 
this hot Sylvador! He seeks, in his passion, my occult 



K i o 



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assistance to tear from his rival the girl both adore; he soon 
will be here — the mad Gluko prepares him; help me to 
crush his love for her who spurns him, and to lure him into 
my warm arms. (A diabolical laugh is heard.) It is not 
true that you laugh at me, devils! Do you believe that my 
senses are gone in that I would give up my richly-paid 
living for the sake of a stranger whose rage masters me? 
O, you forget that with all her weird powers, your priestess 
is human! She needs more than gold! The gold that you 
gave her for banning and tricks; her name which strikes 
terror; her palace, a queen's, alone in the wood here, where 
sorrow and spite are turned into victims of fever and, duped, 
make but a dull shadow of true recompense for service to 
unholy spirits. Love is the only return you can give her — 
love, the ambrosia that tempts gods and men to struggle, to 
battle, to kneel, and to lie for; the price is not high for the 
work she has done! {Another laugh is heard.) Ha, ha, I 
laugh with you! The jest were upon me did I once consider 
frail coquetries love. No, you have not paid me. My flirta- 
tious dealings with Roderic, Eldero, Gluko, the beast, 
were trivial games to preserve my brain's forces from weari- 
ness born of contempt for mankind. ( The laughter con- 
tinues; she springs from her seat.) You think Sylvador is 
another toy merely for my fancy to sport with? O, listen ! 
Not one of these troublesome water-pates caused me to 
tremble, except with impatience — to love is to fear. But 
how my frame quivered beneath this man's wrath-flame! 
He did not entreat, but commanded my aid, as though it 
were due him, and I proud to serve him. I recognized love 
when it came like a storm. ( The laughter increases: she 
closes the door.) If he hears this derision my power is gone. 
So this is the way that the devils pay wages — to mock when 
the time comes to settle accounts. I had all the fire that a 
mortal can burn with; how often death danced in my heart! 
And when I would bury those torturous hours in joys to 

22 



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which I have just claim, they, who owe it to me for infamous 
labors, reply to my yearning with jeers. ( The laughter grows 
louder and wilder^ and murmuring voices are heard.\ Well, I 
have enough of your contemptuous laughter; I leave you 
forever with your debts unpaid. (^She picks up a wand by 
the raised seat and breaks it. ) I renounce all my charms that 
are wielded by you ; but I still have some charms of 
my own. [Even while she tries vainly to open the door the 
flickering light is extingtcished by invisible hands and chaotic 
sounds stir the air.) In what hideous way do you hope to 
restrain me? This hissing and swishing means malice 
is near! {The blackness turns into deep blue; two shadowy 
forms stand before the raised seat.) 

First Shadow. Return to your throne. What you sue 
for is granted. 

KiowANA. How foolish it was to have doubted your 
favor, Satanic protectors! I meant no offense. You can 
not be angry with rage — it is evil; and if love sounds too 
gentle, call my passion lust. {The notes of a trumpet pierce 
through the closed door.) The trumpet of Gluko! Being 
drunk he blows well. The Devil's Hour-service begins. You 
will not desert, me? I had no intention, even in my ill 
humor, of serving your foes; white angels of heaven will 
not flutter near me, for the breath of my schemes would 
soon blacken their wings. Before night is over the irksome 
antics of Gluko will be ended forever by poison or sword, 
as I did rid my bored self of like playthings before him — 
Roderic and Eldero, when they amused me no more. Is 
not this a dish for you, fiends? And when I have captured 
the prey of my bosom — the prize you award for condemned 
industry — even while I am feasting I shall not be idle, for 
each morsel I swallow pays tribute to sin. ( The trumpet 
sounds again^ nearer.) Another blast of the trumpet; scorned 
and scorner approach; the one to his death, the other to 

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my breast, and, coming to love me, he comes to love hell. 
Mischief enough for a woman to do! The devils should 
give me their blessing. 

Second Shadow. We promise assistance. You shall 
have your reward! 

Act II. 
The same as Act I. 

The solitary light as before. Opposite the raised seat^ 
against the wall^ the two shadowy figures stand rigidly. 
KiowANA, on the dais^ looks alternately at them and toward 
the door. 

KiowANA. They never appeared thus before. Their 
voices seem strangely familiar, and yet, not as spirits, but 
mortals, whom I have once very well known. I wish that 
this night of capricious fate were over and my dangerous 
spells ended forever. Did they only not stare at me so; or, 
since they must ceaselessly stare, did their faces not con- 
tinually change, as clouds, now threatening with black, and 
now with livid hue, but always rolling, rolling. 

Courage, Kiowana, courage! you who have dared to 
bargain with the abysmal shadows need never tremble more. 
The limit is reached when flesh communes with space; flesh 
then becomes the master. Down, down, unreal fear! {Two 
strokes of a bell float through the deep air. ) The Devil's 
Hour is come, and love and death are at the door! I must 
be calm to greet them. 

(Enter Gluko, fantastically dressed in green, with a 
trumpet in one hand and a goblet in the other, accompanied 
by Sylvador in a flowing red robe, with coronet and staff. 
Followed by Yajeho, leading the baboon, which is costumed 
in the habit of a monk, ) 

24 



K i o w a n a 

Sylvador {advancing angrily to Kiowana). This tinseled 
mummery, priestess, no doubt befits your dupes but, unless 
your powers are dull, you must know I am none of these. 
I demand of you merely, Kiowana, to do what I myself 
could do were it not for my heated temper which disturbs 
the charms held by each strong mind. You, having no 
interest whatever in passions that agitate, can steadily 
wield your native magic to bless or to curse as you will. 
No buffoonery is needed to accomplish that which requires 
but a self-possessed mood; since I am acquainted with the 
secret of your spells, why am I treated as a fool? 

Yajeho {Lying on his back on the floor ^ with the baboon 
between his crooked legs, at Kiowana's/^^/). 

Oh, I thought I would break my jaws laughing! Gray 
Night-mare, the witch's cat, singed his blue whiskers while 
his mistress was frying bat-liver. Crying, " Curse you! curse 
you! curse you! " he clawed out her yellow eyes ; so now 
she has only two bleeding holes to ogle the Devil with! 

Baboon. Umph-humph! Umph-humph! Umph-humph. 

Kiowana. Jabbering air, remember the whip! {Aside.) 
He says all this in the presence of these starers! {Aloud.) 
Do you not see those awful shadows there? They come 
directly from the spirit-world to aid my uncanny practice. 

Sylvador. I see more idle jugglery; and even were 
they beings of another sphere, they would as readily come 
to me as to you, did I yield myself up to them. There is 
nothing that I fear in flesh or air except to be balked of my 
purpose, and that shall never happen while I live, 

Kiowana {aside). How little do they know who boast! 
The delusions of the conceited are sweet! Yet it is the 
magnetism of his conceit which makes me love him so. 
{Aloud.) You speak shrewdly, Sylvador; still, keep your 
vestments on, since what we are robed in often checks or 
loosens our flow of talent. Now, do not you, who easily 

25 



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wins a way into the coldest female heart, feel lighter in your 
grace when clad in gallant garb? 

Sylvador. Lighter, perhaps, had I no clothing on at 
all. No finery can smooth the tongue that captures men's 
and women's eyes; no rags can stop a fiery hand from thrust- 
ing its sword into a rival's breast! 

KiowANA. Pray, why not use that sword? 

Sylvador. Why, if I used it, would his corpse cause 
her to even clasp my hand? His blood, which I so itch to 
spill, would flow in triumph over me and fill her bosom with 
still deeper love for him; for she is no unnatural woman, 
whose fidelity death can chill. Therefore, I come to you. 
Since love is all enchantment, weird spells alone can deal 
with it. He won her lips through witchery, else why should 
she care for him? He is a student, merely, and, unlike me, 
not of noble birth. 

Gluko {standing against the wall^ near the door^ beside a 
small table, on which he rests his goblet, when not raising 
it to his lips). {Aside.) He thinks himself so wise, and 
yet he talks as though love had aught to do with lack of 
brains or station! Kiowana has fondled sovereigns, im- 
beciles, and slaves ; she once even petted me, the only wise 
fool in the room, for I have sense enough to know that all is 
folly in this world — but drink. What do those shadows 
here? Kiowana must be weak, indeed, from love, since her 
fiend-masters appear themselves to strengthen her conjuring 
mischief. Well, let us see how the play ends ; curiosity and 
drink save life from being a bore. 

Sylvador. The hour you call the Devil's has almost 
passed. I came to see you several nights ago, for the pur- 
pose I explained. You could have done the work as easily 
then — I had the fee at hand — as now ; but even priestesses, 
it seems, must be perverse. My troublesome rides through 
these deceiving woods are hardly less agreeable than this 
absurd regalia and delay, or company of a sot. 

26 



Ki 



o w a n a 



Gluko {aside). Who pricks you with his wit? There 
are heads wiser drunk than others sober. 

Yajeho, The frogs were dancing with the hzards in the 
moonlight, about a hag of the earth; she emptied her ladle 
upon them, and they turned into beautiful girls, but when 
they smiled you could see by their teeth that they all were 
the daughters of fiends. 

Baboon. Umph-humph ! Umph-humph ! Umph-humph ! 

KiowANA. Gluko, out with the freak and the baboon! 
(Gluko walks very deliberately to Yajeho and the Baboon and 
carries them, one after the other, kicking and gibbering, out of 
the room, returning afterwards.) I do not need your fee. 
{^Aside. ) In what contempt he holds me ! With what con- 
tempt he would receive my love ! My wand is broken, so I 
must use my tongue to charm him, and my tongue is weary, 
weary. And then those shadows — they unfix my thoughts. 
My spirit-masters never acted thus before. Why will they 
do so now? At one moment they seem to turn into faces I 
have known, and then they change again. How can I play 
a part before Uncertainty? Still, I must try to say a word. 
{Aloud.) Sylvador! {Aside.) Oh, I can not! My voice 
begins to falter; I am lost! {Aloud.) Sylvador! {Aside.) 
Weakness glides over me ! I am tired, tired ; would I were 
resting in his arms ! O precious dream, that saves me from 
life's bitterness. Will it be ever realized? {The rootn sud- 
denly becomes entirely dark.) 

Act III. 

THE SAME. 

( The darkness has turned into a beautiful moaning glow. 
Sweet strains of music float above and about. The shadowy 
figures are gone. ) 

KiowANA. The music of my dream ! O Sylvador ! And 
they have done this for me 1 They were not thankless as I 

27 



K i o w a n a 

thought they were. They showed you, did they not, how 
foohsh was your love for her? How foolish thoughts of 
vengeance? 

Sylvador. Foolish, perhaps, were my thoughts of 
vengeance. This music at least soothes my hate away. 
No, do not harm my rival in the least, or cause, if possible, 
my love to shed a tear; bring her unto me gently. For, 
under the spell of this angelic music, I think of days when 
I was nearer Heaven than now, and when my dreams had 
wings. {Aside.\ Oh, did I but feel that she cared half so 
much for me as she dotes upon him, I would have been a 
better man, and not be wooing sin now. 

KiowANA. A dream from which let us never awaken, 
Sylvador! They have departed, those ugly shadows, after 
they at last gave us to one another. Let us flee far from 
them and from these scenes of hateful recollection. I have 
riches enough to feed our outward pleasures, and I will never 
exert my dark powers again, unless it be to make you 
happy. Come, Sylvador! {She draws her arm about his 
neck. ) Do you not feel the breath of passion upon us, 
urging toward the feast of love? Even were I sure that 
we could have a thousand years of bliss together I would 
not lose a moment of it for the world. 

Gluko {aside). I do not understand the motive of her 
play, and I am not so very drunk either. 

Sylvador. Whatever these reverie-melodies suggest to 
you they lure me to no mood for dalliance; they bear my 
thoughts, rather, skyward to innocent love, and bid me 
speed, with shame, from here, this witch's brothel! {Thrust- 
ing her away from him.) 

KiowANA. They bid me nestle in my lover's arms. That 
is what these chords of music say to me. ( The music ceases^ 
and is followed by sobs. ) Love seems to weep that we are 
losing time in joining its revels. Come, Sylvador, let us at 
once away! 

28 



K i o w a n a 

Sylvador. Love seems to weep that I still loiter here. 
Away, indeed, but not away with you! The door is locked ! 
— Sot, open it, I say! for I have done with vice and deviltry! 

{^Darkness again and wild laughter.') 

KiowANA. What do they mean? They can not take 
you from me, Sylvador! Quick! Quick! They plan a mis- 
chief — to rob us of each other; they have fastened the 
door, but there is an underground passage — O, I am dumb! 
He can not hear me! What hands force me back to my seat? 

hell! hell! thankless, unrelenting hell, what a fool I 
was ever to have served you! 

( The darkness gradually turns into a blue glimmer show- 
ing KiowANA on her dais, with one of the shadowy figures on 
each side of her.) 

First Shadow {speaking with the voice of Kiowana). 
Kneel, Sylvador, the farce is over. I sought but to test the 
strength of your love for her whom you call pure and holy. 

1 have not been delaying with my occult work, for half of 
it is ended — with the little play which you considered real. 
The second, and the most important, part I now begin. 

Voice of Yajeho {at the door). The death-bird called 
to the rain-ghost "I know of heart's-blood to wash away!" 
( The baboon echoes ^ with almost a moan.\ 

Second Shadow {with the voice of Kiowana). Another 
word, and you dance on live coals! 

Kiowana {aside). So it was all a dream — a cloud-fast 
passing dream! They have not yet begun to give him to me, 
and doubtless they never will. Delusion, precious delusion, 
why must I part with you? They use my voice; even 
Gluko thinks I am speaking. I can no more than witness 
their whim's pleasure, and their whim's pleasure is, I fear, 
to do me harm. And I can not utter a word, a word ! 

29 



K i o w a n a 

Second Shadow. You have spoken truly, Sylvador; 
human passions are nothing to me except as subjects for 
my caprice or gain; love and hate have unsettled your will- 
power, so I must use mine for you — mine that is always 
calm, always calm. But we must first thoroughly know the 
natures of those whose actions we wish to control. On these 
walls, at my demon-helped summons, the life of her 
whom you worship will appear. Draw aside the curtains, 
Gluko, hidden things must be exposed. (Gluko touches a 
secret springs and the black velvety covering the wall in front 
of the raised seaty is drawn aside ^ revealing a massive ?nirror,) 

Second Shadow. Away with illusion, born of love! 
Away with distortion, wrought of hate! For truths no 
mortal dare deny now in mirror-parade pass by. Spirit 
friends of right and justice! Powers that frown on fraud 
and plottings! Hands that uncover smothered wrongs, the 
time for your aid has arrived ! Manifest yourselves ! 

Sylvador {casting away his staff" and grasping^ under 
his robe, his dagger). Woman, take care, take care ! 

Gluko {aside). Has she lost her clever senses? If 
sane, what is her game? {Drawing nearer to Sylvador.) 

KiowANA. I see their plot's end now ; they'll have him 
kill me ; and he can never know that I am guiltless ! At last 
I have you, faces ! Roderic's and Eldero's ! To taunt me 
thus is folly. What care I for having murdered them ! 
And yet I do regret my terminating their careers, since I 
was pleasing you when I did so. O, your triumphant leers ! 
As though you were the ghosts of those two wretches, whom 
I pity now, returned here for revenge ! 

First Shadow. Put back your dagger, fool, and kneel 
for pardon from scowling immortals. It is no human hands 
that guide these awful moments ; you breathe the sultry air 
of ready fate and vengeance ! You winged sympathies, 
mysterious wanderers that drift unseen upon the sighs of 
wronged hearts, through all the worlds of Chance and 

30 



K i o w a n a 

Change, in quest of opportunity to comfort or redress, 
fulfill your mission now ! Inspire this work to triumph and 
to end ! 

Elementary Spirit Voices. Behold ! our help is given. 
We fluttering sympathies of the air were here before you 
called us ; we never fail when needed, as fleshly sympathies 
fail. 

( The room becomes gradually filled with elementary 
shapes. ) 

KiowANA {aside). The entire spirit- world has come to 
witness a mortal's downfall! 

Gluko {aside). The Devil himself will be here next, 
I suppose ; his court seems to be rapidly assembling. 
{Drinks.) 

Second Shadow. Look into the mirror, Sylvador. 
The cause of your unsettled brain, the wine that drunkened 
your career, and made you reel with foolish dreams, when 
steady purpose should have been your aim — arises in all the 
glory of its disturbing charms — Woman — who gives no rest 
even to the dead, but lures shades from their flight through 
the ethereal worlds, to aid rewarding or avenging fates to 
bless or hurl her down, down, down ! Prostrate yourself 
before her, for it is Woman that turns the entire universe 
into melodious or tormenting noise. {The like^iess of a 
beautiful girl appears in the mirror, reclining musingly on 
a couch. Meanwhile the two shadows move slowly away 
from their stations by the liaised seat, until they stand between 
Sylvador and Gluko. They look with maligiia^it triumph all 
the time at Kiowana, who quivers convulsively.) 

Gluko. I do not like this chilly company much. You 
are a little warmer, are you not, my goblet? You would not 
be so impolite, I know, as they who bar my curiosity just 
when the play becomes most interesting. Ho, ho ! they do 
still more than stand discourteously in front of me ; they 
cast a sluggish spell upon my limbs ! I can not move my 

31 



K i o w a n a 

legs, and, what is worse, I can not move my arm to take a 
drink. A nightmare revelry, indeed ! I would not be a part 
of it again for all the amorous priestesses of Hell. What, 
not allowed to drink? Misfortune never spat on me till now ! 
Sylvador. Are you a dream, Norine? a madman's 
fancy, dear? longing for my own better self deranged? 
Whatever you may be, vision or witchery, something divine 
sends you here to let me say ten thousand times and more, 
I worship you, bright, only star of my life's dark way, that 
leads me upward to a higher world of thought than this 
earth gives to the wild chaos of my brain ! Even though 
you be but a glorious delusion, sprung from the frenzy of 
my tormented hope, or else the triumph of forbidden 
wisdom — I pray to you, likeness of her I love ; I pray to 
you, Norine, as to a goddess who, frowning on her subject, 
strikes him mad ; the air grows black around him and, 
groping in the darkness, he stumbles upon folly and deep 
sin. I pray to you, divested of my folly {castifig off" his 
coronet and robe). I pray to you with curses on my sins. 
I thank you for your well intended service {^throwing a 
purse into Kiowana's laf)\ here is your fee, priestess; I need 
your help no more. My truth shall be my only charm, 
Norine, to win at least a smile from your sweet lips ; my 
breast's confession shall be my sole wand that forces you at 
last to look upon me. You do not know that you alone are 
my salvation; you do not know that you are my eternity; 
for, if you knew, you could not help but love me. Norine, 
you do not understand my words, so frail and quivering with 
my anguish — my acts so strange from feverish hunger ; for I 
am starving, cold, blind, weak, and helpless from lack of 
you, my food, warmth, sight, and rest ! I would not harm a 
weed that cared for you, Norine ; for all things that exist 
should kneel to you. But how can I refrain from hating 
him that dares to steal my soul from me? Norine, I 
ask for justice, nothing more ; and justice is that you belong 

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to me. He gained your love through trickery ; for how can 
you be the soul of two men? Accept your own, O soul ! 
Return unto your Kingdom, which is in fierce disorder with- 
out your guiding hand. Its sovereign reigns absolutely; its 
sovereign is its only creed ; its sovereign is its only light. 
Bereft of its sovereign, tempestuous night holds ceaseless 
sway. Is it not natural to war against another kingdom 
that has lured this sovereign away? Is it not natural to use 
the same means to win back, as were employed to dispos- 
sess? Sword to match sword; scheme to meet scheme; magic 
against magic ; for an angel's heart. But see, I hurl aside 
my sword and anger ! And see, I drop, with shame, cold 
plots and devil's aid ! I stand with my whole being uncon- 
cealed, without a plea or weapon. Look me through and 
through ! Recognize your Kingdom, sovereign soul, shat- 
tered by loss of you ! 

{The figure in the glass smiles and stretches forth her arms.) 
Norine, at last you recognize your own ! The dead 
begins to live in the hope of that chaste smile. Norine, let 
me but breathe to give you joy ! 

( The forms of men appear., one after the other, on the 
mirror, and each is in turn embraced and caressed by the 
image of the girl.) Norine, forgive! it is not I. Some 
strange perversion captures me ! Insanity has usurped my 
reason ! It is not I who thus offends ! O cursed brain— I 
will tear it out ! That it, though mad, should think of you 
in an unholy manner ! you, the purest ray of heaven that 
illumines the shadows below ! My death alone can atone 
for this, Norine ! I will crush forever the momentary haunt 
of a diseased spirit, that dares to wrong my soul ! {Draw- 
ing his dagger and pointing it against his breast.) The 
home of my true self that worships you, Norine, has been 
invaded by unhealthy things that commit sacrilege upon its 
sacred altar. See, I destroy that profaned temple with its 
polluters, in horror that I once dwelt therein ! 

33 

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First Shadow {^speaking with the voice of Kiowana). 
Ha, ha ! Death! death! — the fate of woman's fool! Death, 
death! 

Sylvador. O no, this temple is not profaned, I am 
guiltless entirely of this damnable crime ! Hear, hear ! it is 
this reptile's bite — she, slave to vileness, hates the pure 1 
Pardon, Norine, my wrong to you in giving this worm a 
chance to crawl upon and slime your saintly name. 
Blasphemous hag, die ! die ! {Stabbing Kiowana.) At last 
fate smiles on me, Norine, since it permits me to avenge an 
insult to my soul. 

Kiowana {aside). Fiends, you have lost ! To die by 
the hand of him I love is not a punishment but a joy ! 

Shadows {niovitig away from Gluko to the mirror and 
speaking with their own voices). Draw down the curtains, 
Gluko; the Comedy of Justice is over, and ends in tragedy. 

Gluko. They call me sot, but I'm not drunk; for if I 
were I should understand the meaning of this mystery which 
turns me into a puppet and a part of the show ! Well, I am 
glad that you are gone ; you are not sociable at all. What 
about drawing the curtains down? You can do it more quickly 
yourselves. ( The curtains again slowly cover the mirror. ) 

So, you let me use my limbs again? And here is still a 
drop in the cup. I will swallow it and grow wiser, perhaps, 
and learn what is going on. I fell into something of a doze, 
but I heard the scuffle of quarreling words. It must have 
been a true love's brawl since it ends, like such brawls, in 
sleepy peace. Ho, ho! no wonder we are asleep! I'd be 
quiet too, with a hole in my breast — unless I could mate it 
with a similar hole — and my own blood soaking the floor ! 
What, priestess, you did not do this yourself? You can not 
speak, mistress? You are surely dead I You were not 
always polite to me, and I was not mild as a servant should 
be, but you lent me the pleasure once of your charms, if but 
for a passing hour or more, and even though Gluko be only 

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a sot, drink never suggested that he should forget that the 
woman who gave him a moment's dehght had a claim to 
the protection of his sword. So I must have a word with 
you, sir fool by the name of Sylvador. Are you to blame for 
this red mess? If you are, I must make it a little redder still. 

Sylvador. I have no blade to waste on you; you were 
only this wanton's tool. 

Gluko. Wanton though she was, she loved you, fool, 
and for that you owed her some consideration. 

Sylvador. Do not call decayed feelings love. Hand 
me the key to unlock this door. I am in no mood to trifle 
with a wanton's cur ! 

Gluko. But the cur means to trifle with the woman- 
killer. Fastidious murderer, draw ! 

Sylvador. Must you have it then? I will soil your gay 
coat with a mixture of swine's and ass's blood ! ( They 
fight.) 

Gluko. Drink against sobriety — let us see which wins ! 
(Sylvador y«/A-.) Drink wins, as it always does if you only 
take enough. 

Sylvador. Norine, though I die in a haunt of shame, 
my thoughts to the last were of pure love for you. {DiesA 

Shadows. Our work is done. Kiowana, farewell ! By 
this time you know that the dead can avenge. 

Kiowana {aloud). I can speak when it is too late. I 
thank you, Gluko. There is hope for me in dying with him 
who loved so faithfully. I intended to kill you this very 
night ; take all my wealth, Gluko, and flee far from here. 
But do me one favor before you go ; assist me to his body. 
{G'LVKo carries her to Sylvador's corpse.) Fiends, I defy 
you ! {Falls npo?i the body.) 

Shadows. We are not fiends ; but though you aban- 
doned your service to Hell you could not avoid its results. 
Still, you had your opportunity to escape ; before the voice 
of Music, Heaven's priest, even we, Revenge, departed. 

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KiowANA. I understand all now and can not hate you, 
shadows of my wronged attendants — Roderic, Eldero — but 
your revenge has failed! My love for him saves me from 
being damned! 

Shadows. We will see when we meet below. {All the 
shadows in the room disappear.^ 

{The door swings open; shouts of Down with the witch and 
the witch's crew!'" ai^e heard in the building, together with the 
crash of falling dooi^s.) 

{Enter Yajeho, with the baboon in his arms, frantically 
gesticulating and chattering.) 

Yajeho. They break down the house ! — so many angry 
people! They cry "Kill Kiowana! " O, where can we hide? 

Gluko {fastejiing the door with heavy chains hanging on 
either side of the wall) . We will make them a little angrier 
still before they get us, Yajeho ! 

Kiowana. Listen to me, Yajeho : There is a trap-door 
behind my chair — it leads down to a passage to the sea — 
forget this place — earn an honest living in another land — 
take the trumpet of Gluko — you play well— follow music 
and you never can be lost ! (Gluko opeiis the trap-door and 
assists Ya]eho and the baboon to descend through the opening; 
he then closes it again.) Has he gone, Gluko? 
Gluko. Gone, with the trumpet and baboon. 
Kiowana. Snatch the jewels off my fingers and fly, tool 

{The same sweet straiiis of music which floated throiigh the 
rootn before, hover again above and about.) 

Gluko. I want to listen to this music first. 

Kiowana. Saved ! Saved ! The voice of Music calls ! 
All the shadows flee away from you, Music ! This time you 
will not have to weep for me ! I follow you to the soul of 
Sylvador ! {Dies.) 

{The music changes into a rhapsody and ends in a glorious 
crash of triumph . ) 

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Gluko {picking up his goblet). My cup is empty — the 
music has stopped. Old Death might as well have me now. 
{Stabs himself ,) Come in! Come in ! You'll get nothing but 
bones ! {The mob beats afid howls at the door "■Kill Kiowana ! 
Kill all the witch's crew!''') I'd like to be able to see your 
surprise. My last sight of life is its folly I {Dies.) 



37 



ISA. 

A Village Church-yard. The moonlight shows \^k standing 
by a tomb along the bui'-ial-way . 

IsA. This is the night they say the dead arise and march 
along the burial-way, in memory of the moments when their 
bodies last saw life. Would he but come — but come! 

The Winds. You are with us, mournful mortal, finding 
rest in restlessness. 

IsA. Rest? Rest in hope of death's forgiveness! Rest 
in the dream that he will pardon me! Who are you, voices 
of deep sympathy, that know my heart yet do not hate me? 

The Winds. The winds float through the worlds of 
Life and Death; they thus can pity but never hate. 

IsA. But ah, those voices in the distance! are they still 
yours? Winds, tell me, are they yours? Warm, trembling 
hope glides through my breast, so long cold with despair; 
for these are surely human voices, raised in martial ecstasy! 
But they do not reply. The winds have fled from me. 

The Winds. Unrest must flee from Certainty; we will 
return, but never more to you. 

IsA. Are shadows Certainty? I know the dead are 
coming, yet have no fear at all; they bring a hope the living 
could not bring. 

Voices of approaching Spirits, singing. Life, thou 
precious play of error! wildest dream of all eternity! Thee we 
worship, once so real! In death's light we still love life's 
night! 

( Two by two, in slozv procession figures pass the lonely woman. 
But she looks at none of them, till two aged forms approach, who 
stretch forth their pale arms toward her.) 

The Aged Forms {standing still). Isa, our daughter, 
do not so distress yourself! Claude has forgiven you — 
Claude understands. 

38 



s a 



IsA. Father! — mother! does he come, too? Father — 
mother! where is he? 

First Form. See! your husband walks behind us, he, 
— alone — solitary of all this procession, — waiting for the 
empty space at his side to be filled with his companion shade. 

Second Form. Can you not forgive yourself, Isa, for 
being a victim to the frenzy of dogma? The dead know all, 
and do not censure; the dead are troubled only by the grief 
of the living. 

{Without replying, Isa casts herself before a tall spirit 
advancing alone.) 

IsA. Claude, forgive your wife her folly in casting off 
Love, the perfect truth, for the sake of Creed, the artificial. 

Spirit of Claude. As you never have been faithless 
to your love and wifely duties, cease lamenting over an error 
sprung from the shadows of a mistaken world. As soon as 
I was freed from the flesh, sanity's prison, I understood and 
pitied the delusion of mortals, the maddest revel of which 
is religious bigotry. How death laughs at creeds, whose 
insane power ends with one short earthly life! Isa, dear, 
the only pain you can give me is your self-reproach for 
moments that were not guilty, but sick. Think of the 
coming hour that unites us forever, when we shall look 
on our separation as a strange scene of a fantastic play. 
(^Moving on.) 

IsA. And do you think that I can leave you, after your 
forgiveness, Claude? The day of hope has fallen on me; 
shall I turn from it to the night of despair? That hour is 
here — that hour, my husband, which awakens us forever 
from ill-dreams of divided love! 

{Springing into the space at Claude's side. The piv cession 
moves on, singing, until it is lost to sight.) 

39 



s a 



Song of the Spirits. Death, we worship thee! Death, 
we return to thee, pitying friend of troubled hearts! O thou 
who unitest divided love, take us back from the sorrows of 
Life! 

{The light of dawn slowly appears.) 

The Winds. Death has gone, and Life is here, so now 
the winds can moan again. Enter, blindness and mistake, 
ministers to flesh and breath. 

{Enter Sexton.) 

Sexton. I wonder if they marched last night, as people 
say they do? I kept my shutters tightly closed; I'd much 
rather bury than be buried myself, and who sees the dead 
walk must soon die. — What's this? — I wish I had not come! 
There may be ghosts straggling about here still — a woman! 
dead, on the burial-way ! By the tongue of my wife, it is 
Isa ! Poor wench ! she surely was out of her head, or she 
would not have dared to meet the dead ! I buried her 
husband a year ago — she grieved herself sick and mad, they 
say; and simply because they quarreled about church she 
imagined she had broken his heart. So young and so pretty ! 
She must have been mad ! for even had she broken his heart, 
as she raved, remorse could not patch it together again. 
Better had she comforted herself with another heart. 
Remorse brings but work for my spade. 



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